


Rebecca and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

by LittlebutFiery



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, F/M, Rating EXCLUSIVELY for lots of language, Rebecca had a bad day, and Jean is the best boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-13 22:54:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16481306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: Rebecca had a terrible day at work. Thankfully, she has an excellent boyfriend.





	Rebecca and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day

**Author's Note:**

> Written sort of by request for stupidsexymustang! I'm always happy to take requests or prompts - my tumblr is the same as my username here! Also, check out areyousanta's tumblr for some ADORABLE and perfect art of the scene at the end.

Rebecca just about kicked her own front door down, desperate to finally be home. Fuck the stupid fucking half-broken lock and her key being bent  _ just so _ . She just wanted to eat some goddamn food and go to bed and forget this stupid day ever happened.

Finally the door slammed open, sending her stumbling forward and nearly falling to the floor. She threw her purse to the ground and kicked it to the corner, the tears she’d been struggling to hold in all day finally beginning to fall.

“Hey, cupcake, I was starting to get worried!”

Rebecca said nothing, yanking her boots off and storming into the kitchen.

Jean was hard at work at the stove, something delicious-smelling sizzling in a pan and several things boiling in pots. He turned to greet her with a warm smile, which she didn’t return. Even the stupid ass apron he wore - one she’d gotten him as a joke, emblazoned with  _ Kiss the Cook _ \- didn’t soften her scowl. “There’s my princess. How was work?”

“It fucking sucked and I’m tired,” Rebecca spat.

Jean set down the tongs he was holding, walking over to her and giving her a big hug. “It’s okay, babe. You’re home, and now you can just relax. Dinner’s pretty much done.”

“No, I can’t relax!” Rebecca snapped. “I’m going to have to deal with the same bullshit tomorrow! I’m getting tense just thinking about it!”

“Becca. Breathe for me, ‘kay?” Jean murmured. “You can worry about tomorrow, tomorrow. For now, you survived today. How about you sit down and I’ll finish up dinner?”

Rebecca mumbled an agreement, stomping over to her usual chair and sitting down, idly playing with the silverware Jean had already laid out.

She knew she ought to be more appreciative of Jean and his jaw-dropping patience with her, but she was too grumpy to be rational. Even Jean himself was grating on her nerves a little, humming a cheerful tune as he started to put their dinner on plates.

Finally, he sat down at his spot, setting Rebecca’s plate in front of her and offering her a smile. “Guess it’s a good thing I felt like making your favorite for dinner tonight, yeah?”

Rebecca looked down and finally managed a little smile. He had indeed made her favorite, chicken alfredo, and given her a heaping helping, even bigger than the portion he usually made for himself.

They were quiet, both digging into their dinners, before Jean asked, “So, uh...do you want to talk about what happened at work?”

“No. You’re not gonna want to hear it,” Rebecca grumbled, stabbing a piece of chicken with her fork.

“I mean, I’m not gonna  _ make _ you talk, but you don’t have to worry about me, babe. If it’s gonna make you feel better, go ahead,” Jean said. “I ain’t the best listener, but I’ll do my best.”

Rebecca hesitated for only a moment before slamming her fork down and yelling, “I hate my stupid fucking job!”

Jean said nothing, waiting for her to go on. “Grumman assigned me to fucking General Montgomery while he’s in town. I don’t mind running errands for Grumman, but I don’t fucking appreciate being foisted off onto someone else! I’m not the fucking errand girl, I’m a goddamn officer! And General...General Montfuckery sent me off for the stupidest shit! Getting him coffee and getting his dry cleaning, really? They have corporals for that!”

Rebecca took a breath before continuing angrily, “Private Michaelsson couldn’t do a damn thing without me talking him through it all day. He’s older than me, I shouldn’t have to hold his hand - I’m not his fucking mother! I didn’t even get to eat lunch because he and Warrant Officer Hofsteder had a fucking crisis over some missing...I don’t even know, some book or some shit. So I had to drop my lunch and go help them find it, and then when I was trying to eat lunch at my desk I got mustard all over my jacket, and…”

Tears were streaming down her cheeks before she even realized she was crying. Jean took one of her hands in one of his, squeezing it gently. “It’s okay, babe. You got through one day of it. If tomorrow sucks too, I’ll take you out on the town and we can go dancing, okay? It’s gonna take a lot more than one shitty day and some incompetent idiots to break the fearless Lieutenant Catalina, yeah?”

Rebecca nodded, shakily finishing the last bite of her dinner. Jean stood, kissing her cheek and picking up the empty dishes. “How about you put on your pajamas, or something else comfy, and take a minute to just sit and breathe?”

“I...need to wash my uniform,” Rebecca managed weakly.

“We can do laundry once you’ve had a little bit to calm down and relax, okay? Just...put on something comfy and take a breather,” Jean insisted from his spot at the sink, washing off the dishes. When she started to argue, Jean scowled, “Becca. Babe. Light of my life. The laundry isn’t going anywhere. It doesn’t need to get done right this second. I want you to try to calm down, okay?”

“Okay,” Rebecca conceded, standing up and heading for their bedroom.

She had her own pajamas, cute nighties and matching sets, but she didn’t feel like wearing silk or itchy lace. Instead, she dug one of Jean’s ancient workout shirts and a worn pairs of sweatpants from his dresser. His clothes were far too big on her, and so soft from being worn and washed so often. Somehow, it made her feel a little better.

The clothes smelling like him didn’t hurt, either.

She sat on their bed a while, hugging Jean’s pillow to her chest and crying into it. Fuck, today was awful. Jean was being far too good to her - with how her day was going, there had to be some kind of catch. Something was going to go wrong.

Jean was in the living room reading when Rebecca emerged a while later, her face still red and puffy with tears. She always found his love of reading cute, particularly considering how much his friends enjoyed teasing him for being the dumbass of the group. Sometimes he’d read his novel of the week to her, his eyes practically shining with joy. Someday, he’d be the perfect dad to read bedtime stories to his kids - she just knew it.

Tonight, though, she sighed. She had been hoping he would offer her a reprieve from the dishes, but he was too engrossed in his book to say anything, and she was too proud to ask. Jean cooked, so she did the dishes. That’s how it was, but wow, she really didn’t want to today.

She sighed again and shuffled into the kitchen, dreading the mountain of dishes from tonight’s meal to do.

Rebecca got to the sink and stopped, blinking in confusion.

Where the hell were the dishes?

“Jean?” she called, confused.

“Yeah, babe?”

“Where’d you put the dishes?”

“Away,” Jean called back. “I did them while you were changing.”

Rebecca’s voice caught in her throat, choked by emotion.

Jean  _ despised _ doing the dishes. It was his least favorite chore in existence. Their deal had always been that he cooked, she cleaned up afterwards, for a  _ reason _ . Rebecca would’ve given them both food poisoning otherwise, and Jean would’ve stocked up on paper plates.

And yet...he made her her favorite for dinner, and then cleaned up afterwards. Because he knew she’d had a bad day.

Well, here came the tears again. She headed back into the living room, sniffling and wiping her eyes. Jean was still reading, but there was a satisfied smile on his face as he turned a page. She managed, “You didn’t have to.”

“I know. That’s why I’m such a catch,” Jean teased, winking at her.

She wasn’t one to admit it aloud, lest she bolster his ego, but he was certainly right. Riza had certainly helped her find a good man in Central, and Rebecca wasn’t going to let him go if she had any say in it.

Instead she croaked out, “I need to put away the weekend’s laundry before we start on today’s.”

“Okay, babe. Don’t stress out though, okay? It’s just laundry. Take a break if you need to,” Jean nodded.

Rebecca headed back into their room, pulling the mountainous pile of clean clothes out of the closet and tossing them on the bed. She had a feeling this was going to take a while.

After a few minutes, Jean called, “Hey, sweetie? I’m out of smokes. I’m gonna go to the store to get a couple packs, okay? I’ll be back soon.”

Immediately, the sour mood returned. Of course Jean was going to get some more fucking cigarettes. Hell, he’d probably marry one if he could. Never mind that they were trying to save up money to get a bigger apartment, maybe start a family. No, he needed his fix. Of course he did.

She continued to grumble to herself as she angrily folded clothes, shoving them into drawers with far more force than necessary. On the one hand, she  _ knew _ she was being unreasonable. Jean had already gone out of his way to treat her tonight, and though she wished he’d cut back a little more on his trademark vice, she had no desire to make him quit entirely. It didn’t usually bother her.

Tonight, though, she wanted to throw his damn lighter out the window. Fuck him and his stupid cigarettes. A bunch of overpriced smelly bullshit, if you asked her.

After a while she heard the door open and Jean call, “Babe, I’m home!”

Rebecca said nothing, continuing to shove clothes into drawers. Keys jingled as Jean hung them on the key hook by the door, fabric rustled as he hung up his coat and took off his boots, and then he was standing in the doorway to their room, a concerned look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Bec? You look upset again,” Jean frowned.

“Of course I’m upset! You and those fucking...cigarettes…” Rebecca trailed off.

Jean wasn’t holding a pack of cigarettes, or his usual two or three packs.

Instead he had his hands full with two large shopping bags. Rebecca managed, “That doesn’t look like smokes, Jean.”

He looked almost bashful as he set the bags down, grinning. “I know. I wanted to surprise you, and I figured you’d believe that excuse.”

“Surprise me?” Rebecca echoed weakly.

“I mean, I was hoping dinner and dishes would help, but you still seemed upset, so…” Jean reached into one of the bags, beginning to pull things out. “I got you bubble bath stuff. I know you like taking baths, and the clerk said this smell is supposed to make you feel calm, and stuff, so…”

Before Rebecca could say anything, he went on, pulling something else out. “A-and wine! Your favorite, the sweet bubbly kind! They didn’t have your favorite brand but they said this was close! And a candle, too. You’re supposed to have candles when you have a nice relaxing bath, right? And roses! They’re kinda wilty, but they’re pretty, and apparently red roses have some deep meaning or some shit...I dunno. I just thought you’d like them.”

Rebecca began to sob, running towards Jean and throwing her arms around him. He hugged her tightly, stroking her back and her hair and mumurming sweet nothings to her. She wailed, “I-I’m s-sorry, Jean! I didn’t mean to be such a bitch or whine so much and you’ve been so g-good to me a-and I…”

“Shh, Bec, baby, it’s okay. I love you, you know that, right?” Jean soothed. “You had a long day. It happens to all of us. It doesn’t change that I love you. You can be mad and upset and complain as much as you want. I’d be a shitty boyfriend if I didn’t listen. I can’t fix everything, but I’ll always do what I can. And sure, I can’t fix this douchey general being in town, or the new kids being idiots, but I can treat you like a princess and maybe give you a backrub and get all that tension out, so you’re in fighting shape for tomorrow.”

“I don’t deserve you,” Rebecca cried, clutching him tighter.

“Hey, everybody says I don’t deserve you, either, so we’re even,” Jean chuckled. He pressed a kiss to her hair. “We can finish the laundry later. Let’s get that bubble bath started for you.”

Jean headed into their bathroom, taking the bubble bath soap and the candle in with him. Soon Rebecca could hear the water running, and Jean called, “Do you want me to get the phonograph too? You got that jazz record the other day and we haven’t had a chance to listen to it yet.”

“That sounds great,” Rebecca called back, folding one last shirt and putting it away.

As Jean headed out of the bathroom and back towards the living room to get the record player, she called, “Oh, Jean? There’s one more thing I think I’d like for my bath.”

“Yeah? I can go get that too,” Jean said.

Rebecca smiled. “Bubble baths are nice and all, but I think they’re nicer when they’re shared. Do you think maybe I could persuade you to join me?”

Jean laughed. “You don’t have to ask twice, princess. Just be careful what you wish for.”

He winked again as he headed to get the phonograph, chuckling to himself as he walked away.

Rebecca smiled, stifling her own laugh. Little did he know, with him, she had  _ exactly _ what she wished for.


End file.
